


The Longest Ride

by Alyssacameron19



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssacameron19/pseuds/Alyssacameron19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What would happen if Piney's daughter and Opie's twin, Harley Winston, was a member of the most renown biker gang in California?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let It Burn

The satin sheets scrunched into a pile at the end of the bed, and the heavy bedspread hung off the side of the bed. I turned and looked at the naked man lying there beside me, softly snoring. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Why did I do this to myself? I really needed help. This was the second time this week, which was quite unusual. I guess Jax was just getting to me lately, more than usual. Still, I had to stop this. I was tired of sneaking out of his house at eleven at night, but I was also tired of feeling alone and unwanted by the man I loved. I had to get of here though. No matter if I came back tomorrow and screwed him again, I wanted to get the fuck out of his house. Unless we were having sex, I would rather be in the company of wooden plank than sit and talk about feelings and what the hell we were. It was obvious to me. This was a distraction that kept my mind off Jax for a little bit. It was a good time for the both of us, not a relationship, just a fuck. The sooner he realized that, the less it would hurt when I decided that he wasn’t a good enough distraction anymore.

I rushed out of the bed, being careful not to wake him up as I pulled my red, lacy panties up my thighs and repositioned my red bra straps back on my shoulders. I quietly squeezed into my tight, black skinny jeans and buttoned them easily. That left me plenty of time to look for my white tank top that seemed to magically disappear. Kneeling down, I searched under the bed and bedspread that had fell to the floor as I got out of bed. Still, it wasn’t there. It wasn’t anywhere on the floor as far as I could tell, so I stood up and moved towards his dresser that stood directly below the only window in his room that the street light illuminated. 

As I searched the open drawers, a flicker of orange caught my attention. I stopped fumbling through the drawers and pressed my face to the window. It was coming from the western outskirts of town, probably a few miles from here. A large orange flame that grew with every second that passed was hard not to miss. The sight made my stomach drop. It felt like I was on a roller coaster, a shit roller coaster since I knew there was only one place on that side of Charming that would cause such an explosion. The warehouse, our warehouse, was on fire.

“Shit,” I said, loudly. “No, this can’t be happening. Shit!” Each word grew louder until I was screaming at the window. It didn’t concern me that David was waking up or that I was standing there without a shirt on pressed up against a window. Nothing mattered except the fact that a large amount of our stock was burning in that warehouse, my money turning to ashes. If those guns burnt, we were fucked. I wouldn’t get paid, other clubs would be up our asses, and the police would just want to fuck us over a little bit more. “Shit,” I yelled, slamming my hands on the dresser top.

“What’s wrong, baby?” David asked, pressing himself against my butt and wrapping his arms around my waist, playing with the belt loops on my pants. I literally cringed. Unless I was horny, I didn’t want his hands on me, but I still turned to him with a fake smile.

“I have to go,” I said, not giving him a clear answer. He raised an eyebrow. “It’s work,” I said, with a fake tone of disappointment. After twelve years in the club, anything that comes out of my mouth sounds like it is true. 

David stepped back with a disappointed look, but I disregarded him and started searching for my shirt again. There was no use. It was no where to be found, and I didn’t have the time to stay here searching for a stupid, five dollar tank top. I could have been the only club member who had seen it. I needed go, and I needed to go now or David would be begging me for a late night meal with him. I think I would have rather been inside our warehouse right now rather than have to sit through a dinner with him. 

“Can you hand me my jacket?” I asked. A smile grew on his face as he reached for the leather jacket. He had always loved the fact that I had one.

“Here you go, Babe,” he said, handing it over to me. I faked another smile and grabbed the SAMCRO jacket that had Sons of Anarchy, a large grim reaper, and my position within the club patched onto the jacket. I quickly pulled it on and zipped it as far up as it would go, but it still barely covered the red bra.

“Thanks,” I told David for the night and for handing me my jacket as I pulled on my riding boots. I gave him a smile and turned to leave, but he caught my arm before I took one step. He pulled me back to him and kissed me lovingly while tightly gripping my ass. I kissed him lightly and broke from his grip.

“I have to go, David,” I mumbled, getting slightly agitated at him. He smiled and let go of my arm, and I turned on my heel. Rolling my eyes, I began to walk away. 

I was halfway out the door when a large hand came in contact with my ass. It popped against my skin and made me jump. I let out an angry sigh and kept walking. He should be very thankful that he was good in bed, because otherwise, I wouldn’t have even be there in the first place. That’s also the only reason that I didn’t turn around and stab him. 

“Bye,” I called out as I made my way down the steps. I didn’t wait for him to reply before I hurried outside to my bike that was propped on the curb in front of his house. She looked good sitting there with my helmet hanging from the handle. Her black paint glistened under the moonlight, and a real smile formed on my face. I made my way over to her and ran my hand over the gas tank before pushing the kickstand back. I swung my leg over and straddled the seat, balancing the bike as I put my helmet on. Then I pulled out my phone and pressed the number three. 

“Come on, Jax,” I said as the phone began to ring. “I really need you to answer.” It continued to ring, ring, ring until the automated machine answered for him, telling me to leave a message. I rolled my eyes. “Jax, I need you to stop doing whatever or whoever you are doing and answer your phone. Call me back. The warehouse is on fire. I’m going to Cla-”. The machine stopped me and said that I could try again. “Whatever,” I mumbled and closed the phone. I stuffed it back into my pocket and then placed my hands on the handles, cranking the motorcycle. Slowly raising my feet to the footrests, I started down the street. 

From David’s I sped down 7th street and then turned onto 9th making my way to Clay’s. He was the current president of SAMCRO, a bike gang created by mine and Jax’s dads in the late 60s. We were an outlaw gang, running guns and running Charming. The Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club Redwood Originals, an all white and all male club until my dad insisted that I be patched. I grew up in the club with my family and friends’ families participating so it only seemed right, and they all accepted me as the first female member in history. 

I passed the Wal-Mart then the First Baptist, and finally, I went past Teller-Morrow auto shop. That was where we all worked, and it was owned by Clay and Jax’s dad, John. After John died back in 1993, Clay and Jax’s mom married and took full ownership of the place. Right next to it was the clubhouse where I lived with a few other of the members of the club, including Jax. That was home, where we spent most of our time hanging out and drinking. The lights were on there now, and a line of bikes were parked in front of the clubhouse. I looked through, trying to find him, but his bike was no where to be found so I kept driving. Revving the engine, I sped up and turned onto Clay’s road, but I slammed on my brakes when I saw his bike propped up beside the ice machine at the gas station.

I turned in the parking lot and rolled up beside his bike, kicking my stand down. I couldn’t help but be angry at him. The fire was clear to anyone with eyes, but he was in the store flirting. I could even see him standing at the counter with his crooked smile and horny eyes. There was literally no time to get laid right now. I mean why try to have sex when we were getting fucked by that fire, huh? Still, I decided to give him a chance to get outside on his own, to not make a scene. And I didn’t just want to bust up into the gas station sporting just a bra and a jacket. A little too trashy for my taste, but if he tested my patience, I wouldn’t think twice about it. 

“Come on, Jax,” I mumbled to myself, leaning back on my bike. I tried to cover my cleavage while I sat there too, but there was no use. The zipper wasn’t going any higher while I sat there waiting. And I waited for a good five minutes, watching him cut up with the young woman behind that register. “Fine,” I said, swinging my leg over. I was done waiting. I had better things to do than sit outside waiting for him to come out when he’s decided he’s had enough. Shit had to be taken care of out here, and I was about to put a stop to the bullshit in there. I wasn’t jealous, far from it, and I wasn’t being a fun wrecker, both of which has been suggested by my brother on multiple occasions when I busted Jax’s balls in front of potential ass. No, this was fucking business, and it seemed like I was the only one around here who got shit done. Maybe that’s because I didn’t think with my dick like the rest of them.

I was filled with anger as I walked to the door that was covered in way too many stickers. They covered the entire surface of the door accept for the top panel of glass. I could see them better now. Jax propping himself on the counter while Louise leaned over it to look at the stuff he was buying. I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open. 

The bell rang as I walked through the doorway, and two pairs of eyes landed on me, one pair becoming slightly larger. That only angered me more. Maybe if he could get sex out of his mind for two seconds, he would notice the shit storm raging right outside. 

“So you don’t answer your phone these days?” I asked, looking to his phone lying on the counter.

“Harley.” Jax glanced at my open jacket and then back to my eyes with a smirk. “David’s again?” I rolled my eyes. This wasn’t the time. “Y’all going steady yet?” he joked. 

“Can you just shut up?” I asked, walking closer. My boots heels clicked as I walked. “I don’t have time for your jokes tonight. Not when our warehouse is on fire, burning to the ground.” I sent him a sarcastic, annoyed smile and walked over to the counter grabbing a pack of cigarettes. I laid the money on the counter as Jax looked at the huge fire outside.

“Oh shit,” he said, walking past me to the door. “Oh shit,” he repeated. He threw the sticker covered door open and walked outside. 

“Sorry,” I said to Louise, the cashier, before grabbing Jax’s bag and going after him. I looked back to see her leaning over the entire counter to witness the huge fire in the short distance.

Jax was standing under the pavilion of the gas station and staring at the flame. It was big, definitely seen by the whole county which just added more shit to this shit storm. I would be surprised if we had anything left in the warehouse.

“Come on, Jax. We need to get to Clay’s,” I told him. He shook his head and ran a hand through his blonde hair. 

“Hell no,” he said. “No way.”

“What do you mean no way. He has to know,” I said, straddling my bike and leaning forward onto the handles. 

“I know that, but I ain’t about to go over there. Not tonight,” he replied. Jax turned back to me and then walked over to his bike. “I ain’t going to be there when he gets pissed. So we’ll call him when we get home.”

“Fine,” I said, reaching for my helmet. 

Not another word was spoken until we were at the clubhouse surrounded by drunk men. This happened sometimes. They would invite all the bikers in the community even the ones not in the club and the women who they thought they could score with and get shitfaced. Times like those made me wish that I had my own place unless I was in the mood to get shitfaced as well which was more often that socially acceptable for most people. Still, as we made our way into the clubhouse, I decided that these drunk men could not handle the unfortunate news, not tonight. They could all wait until tomorrow when they were sober and there was less people filling up the room. 

“Go to my room,” I told him, leading him back to my room that was right next to his. He stopped before we made it to the hall and looked back at the boys. 

“They gotta know too,” he said. 

“If you tell them right now, I highly doubt they will remember,” It told him, moving into the hall. “You can tell them when they are actually sober.” 

I led him all the way down the hall until we reached a door with little letters that said Harley embellishing the surface. I turned the golden door knob and walked into the dark, cool room. 

My room was a decent size. There was room for a queen size bed, a TV, a dresser, and a desk within the tan walls. There was stacks and stacks of folders placed on my counter next to my lamp that were filled with the club’s transactions, but some were filled with my own personal stories and thoughts. I had always loved to write, and the stacks of ink filled notebooks proved just that. There was a little bit of everything in my room actually. DVDs lined my wall beside my rows of books ranging from autobiographies to the most absurd fiction. Little souvenirs lined the back of my desk and dresser, small things that I got from my adventures abroad. Some were from Ireland, when I made a run with Chibs. That was my senior trip, Dad says. My favorite though was the set of maracas and the sombrero we bought when we went to Mexico to set up a post there. And people say we are uncultured. 

Jax glanced around my room and smiled even though I could tell he was stressed now. It had been awhile since he had been in my room despite it being right next to his. We were busy, and when we weren’t we hung out in his room or out in the lounge with everyone else. “It’s been a long time, huh?” he asked. 

“Not too long,” I replied with a smile as I sat on my bed. He gave me a half smile and sat down next to me. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t answer,” he mentioned, lying back. I turned towards him and pulled my legs onto the bed. 

“I’m sorry that I had to bust in there with my tits out,” I responded, trying to lighten the conversation. “I lost my shirt.” 

Jax laughed. “Oh yeah. I bet he just hid it from you and added it to his shrine.” I shook my head and laughed. 

“No, he’s not that weird.” I tried to at least make it look like I actually liked David. 

“Yeah sure,” he said. His chest rose as he let out a small laugh. “God, I don’t want to call him, Harls.” I copied his half smile, my body falling back on the bed next to him. 

“Maybe he already knows,” I told him in an attempt to reassure him. 

“He does. It’s hard to miss,” Jax said. “Still, he’d be even more pissed that I didn’t call.”

“Want me to do it?” I asked. Jax shook his head and raised up. He pulled out his phone and dialed his step dad’s number. Then we waited, the loud ring bellowing out over the speakerphone. Finally, someone answered the phone. 

“Hello,” they said. It was a woman. Her voice was tired but concerned.

“Hey, Ma,” Jax said.

“Hey, Gemma,” I added. I propped my head on my hand to look up at Jax. 

“ Hey, kids,” she replied. “If you’re calling about the warehouse, Clay already knows. He’s already had his fit, and now he’s in the bed. He said to tell you that we’ll take care of this shit tomorrow.” I sighed in relief and laid my head on the bed. “You kids need to get to bed though.”

“We will,” Jax told his mom. “Goodnight, Ma.” 

“Goodnight, baby. Goodnight, Harley,” she said before hanging up. Jax laid the phone next to my knees and fell back on the bed, sighing. 

I smiled into the bedspread and then looked over to him. He had a smile forming on his lips as he looked at me too. I couldn’t help but laugh at him as I lay there. Jax’s smile grew until he was laughing too. 

“That went better than I thought it would,” I told him, bringing my knees upwards and pushing the phone with them. 

“It did,” he said. “Now we can just worry about every other thing that will fuck us over now.” 

“Well we can deal with that tomorrow,” I said. He smiled and nodded. 

“I think Ma was right. I might as well go to bed,” he said. “No point in staying up now since someone killed my chance of getting laid.” He gave me a crooked smile and rolled off my bed. 

“Ha. Ha. You are so funny,” I said with a sarcastic tone. “Go to bed.” I threw a pillow at him, and he caught it, throwing it back to me. I smiled.

“Night, Harls,” he said as he started to slip out of my room.

“Goodnight, Jax,” I replied.


	2. Old Times and New Memories

I woke up to the bright sun shining in through my blinds and a loud knock on my door. I could hear Jax yelling for me, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I didn’t really care. I was still half asleep, and I didn’t want anyone to bother me. Too bad for me though. Jax didn’t leave. Instead, he continued to bang on my door.

“Harls,” he yelled, banging his fist against my door. I grunted and rolled out of my bed, dressed only in a bra and underwear. When I got back to the clubhouse last night, I grabbed a beer and a bag of goldfish before I went to my room. I was too lazy to search through the pile of laundry to get my night attire so I took off my pants and jacket and climbed into bed, watching an episode of Grey’s Anatomy before falling asleep.

“It’s not locked,” I yelled back as I stood up and gathered the empty beer bottle and bag of goldfish. I laid both in the plastic Wal-Mart bag beside my bed.

Jax opened my door as I stood up, and he immediately turned around. “You are suppose to be decent when you invite someone into your bedroom.” I laughed and turned to the laundry basket in the floor. 

“If you weren’t beating on my door like it was life or death then I wouldn’t have let you in,” I told him, pulling a black tank top over the red bra. “What do you need? And for goodness sake Jax, you have seen me like this before. Why are you turning around?"

“I don’t want to be looking at another man’s woman,” he said, chuckling as he turned around to me. I rolled my eyes.

“Ha, he wishes.” I laughed. “I ain’t no man’s woman. I’m my own woman,” I told him, pulling my hair into a ponytail. “You remember that.” I bent over and picked up a clean pair of underwear and denim shorts. I couldn’t just change right in front of Jax, so I walked over to my closet and stepped inside, closing the door as I changed. Jax mumbled something from the other side of the door, but his voice was muffled. “Hold on. I can’t hear you.” 

I pulled the panties from last night off and replaced them with a pair of black, bikini briefs and a pair of short, denim shorts. With everything now covered, I opened the door and went to sit on my bed. “Sorry, what’d you say?” 

“I asked, so you and David aren’t dating.” As he lies on my bed, he sent me a crooked smile from that he knew would get under my skin. He was right. It did get under my skin, and it made me even more frustrated that he didn’t realize that he was the only reason that I went to David’s anyway. 

“I am not talking about this with you this early in the morning. We have more important shit to discuss,” I said, reaching from my bed to get my boots. 

“Yeah, we do. For starters, Clay told me to come ask you if you wanted to go to the warehouse with us,” he asked, sitting up. 

“Who’s staying here?” I asked. “Are we closing for the morning?”

“No, Lowell’s working. Happy’s gonna be here, and Chibs and Half Sack went to pick up a wrecked car. It’s got the deer an everything. Tig, Bobby, and Juice is going with us. You wanna go?” He asked me. 

I wanted to go. I wanted to see just how much of my money had been burnt away, and I wanted to find out what happened, but I couldn’t. I had shit to do. “I want to but can’t. Shit has to get done around here. I got a Harley that I am painting for a customer, and we can’t leave all Lowell alone.” I shrugged. “Just call me and let me know what is happening.” He nodded and stood up. 

“We aren’t heading over there until Clay gets here. You hungry?” he asked, heading towards the door. I followed him and we walked out into the hall.

“Breakfast sounds good as long as you don’t expect me to cook it,” I said with a laugh. I only cooked three times a week, two times during the week and Sunday morning. Today was Half Sack’s day, but apparently he wasn’t at the clubhouse. 

“Prospect’s out towing that deer in, so Juice covered and made something,” he told me. 

“Good, I’m getting sick of cereal and toast,” I explained. “That’s all the prospect knows how to make.” 

Jax laughed and touched the bike we have in the clubhouse before turning. “Well I guess that means you’re going to start cooking more.” 

“Y’all wish,” I replied, moving ahead of him and into the kitchen. Juice and Tig were there when we sat down, stuffing their faces with the eggs and bacon Juice made. 

“Yo, you going with us this morning, Harls?” Juice asked after swallowing the mouthful he had been chewing on. 

“Not this time. Got a bike to paint,” I said. “And it’d be better if less people went anyways. Less people, less suspicion.”

Juice nodded and went back to finishing off his plate as Jax and I were filling ours. I reached for the bowl of eggs and forked some out before handing the bowl off to Jax and reaching for the plate piled with bacon.

“Did you cook our entire fridge?” I asked, biting into the strip of crispy bacon. 

“Pretty much. We didn’t have shit to start with though,” Juice admits. I nodded. It was true. We were running out of almost everything, and no one really had time to go to Wal-Mart and pick up anything. We were either swarmed with work or club work. I figured that I would take off one day this week and pick up a few things. 

We continued to eat until the dishes were empty and the drinks were gone. The boys still had time to spare when we finished since Clay wasn’t there yet, and I decided I could hang out with them for a little bit. So we moved from the kitchen into the front of the clubhouse. There was a pool table there, and we figured that it would pass the time. We decided that Jax and Juice would play first. So Tig and I took a seat on the counter of the bar, drinking straight from the bottles of alcohol. 

“Winner gets to lead,” Juice announces, holding out his hand with a smile on his face. Jax looked over to us and then grabbed Juice’s hand with a grin.

“You got yourself a deal, man.” They shook hands and began. Jax broke the set and holed a striped. 

I watched the game intensely, figuring out what my strategy was going to be when I played. Tig. I don’t think it would be too hard. Tig wasn’t the best pool player in the world, so at least I’d have a chance. As they continued to play though, I began to get bored of the same shots and misses since Juice and Jax both pretty much sucked. 

To occupy myself, I pulled out my flip phone and typed in my brother’s number. It had been a few days since I checked in on my twin, and I wanted to see how he was doing. “Hey Opie,” I typed. “Just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about you. I hope you have a good day at work.” I quickly sent the text and laid my phone down next to me on the bar, turning my attention back to the game.

A few seconds later, my phone vibrated a couple times on the wooden bar. I grabbed the small prepaid and flipped it open to see the new message. “Thanks, Harls. I was actually thinking about you too. You heard from Dad lately?” I read to myself.

“Is that David?” Juice questioned. I gave him a hard glare and shut my phone.

“No, it’s Opie,” I answered his annoying question. I sent Jax an annoyed eye roll since he had been the only one who knew about David. 

“Opie,” they all said. My brother was close friends with all the boys but Jax was his best friend. We all joined SAMCRO when we turned eighteen when we were all young and wild. Now, twelve years later, we were older, tamer, and Opie wasn’t as big in SAMCRO as he had been. After getting sent away for five years, Op came back trying to live straight for his family, but mostly for my sister in law, Donna. It had been a hard five years for them, even though me and Dad were putting money in their account on a weekly basis. 

“He’s working with that tree company now, right?” Tig asked, pressing a bottle of beer to his lips. 

“Yeah,” I replied, wanting to stop talking about my brother with them. I quickly changed the topic and repositioned it on Wendy. “Jax, have you heard from Baby Momma?”

“Nah, haven’t heard from her in about three weeks. She’s fine as far as I know,” he recalled. “Have you?” I shook my head. 

Wendy was Jax’s ex wife and my best friend from high school. She was pregnant with Jax’s first child, but she was also addicted to crank. That was one of the many reasons her and Jax got a divorce. Still, I hadn’t heard from her in almost a month, since I took her to her doctor’s appointment actually. I had tried to call her a few times, but she hadn’t answered. Sometimes I drove past her house just to make sure she was still in Charming, and every time her car would be there and the lights or the TV would be on. 

“I’ve been by the house a few times, she’s there,” I told him, reaching for my phone again and typing a reply to Opie. I told him that I seen Dad yesterday and that he was still wearing his nasal cannulas then I closed my phone and looked back up at the boys. 

“Clay’s here,” I heard Juice say, leaning to the right to look out the window. “Bobby’s here to.” 

“Time to ride, boys,” Tig said, jumping down from the bar. “You sure you don’t wanna ride, Harley?” He sent me a smile and helped me down. 

“Yeah, I got that bike,” I replied. My shorts had rose from sitting up there so I pulled them further down my legs and fixed my tank top. 

“Excuses,” he chuckled, turning and following Juice and Jax out of the clubhouse. I followed behind them.

Once we were outside, the sun was high and hot. It shined down on me and almost blinded my eyes. I placed my hand above my eyes and continued to follow the boys all the way across the lot to the shop. It was a short walk, and we were right beside Clay and Bobby’s bike in no time. 

“She going?” Clay asked. He looked up at us with his sunglasses reflecting everything in front of him. He was fixing his riding glove on his left hand.

“Got business here,” I said, leaning on my left leg. “It’s bad business for everyone to go. We want this on the down low” Clay nodded and smirked.

“Smart girl,” he commented, reaching behind him for his helmet. “Well then I think it’s time to set out, huh?” The boys said nothing, but they all mounted their bikes and started putting on their gear. 

I walked over to where Jax’s bike was parked and gripped his steering wheels. “You’re going to call me when y’all figure it out?” I stepped back and put my hands on my hips, waiting for him to finish putting his gear on. 

“Mhm,” he said. “You’re on speed dial, darling.” I shook my head with a smile and turned around. 

“Y’all be careful,” I said as I started my walk over to the shop. I was answered by the growling of engines. It was such a beautiful sound that always made me smile. 

I made it into the hot shop that was being cooled by the hardworking fans. Lowell had raised all the doors, but it was still hot. It was always hot here in California. We had no seasons here, just the fucking heat that never seemed to leave. 

“Hey, Lowell,” I called out, waving at our full time mechanic. We knew his Dad before he walked out on Lowell, and he went to high school with all of us. Clay has always taken care of him. He had a kid and a crank addiction as well. It seemed like a lot of people had crank addictions around here now that I think about it. But really, he was a pretty good guy for the most part. 

“Hey,” he called back to me. He was working on taking a dent out of a car they brought in a few days ago. “Painting the bike today?” 

“Yeah finally.” I laughed before putting my gloves, mask, and goggles. I reached out for my paint dispenser on my work table, and I turned my radio on right before flipping the switch on my air compressor.

The paint flew onto the gas tank of the motorcycle, and the process started. It wouldn’t take that long to paint it actually, but I would have to come back later and touch it up. Then it would be finished and I could get paid. I couldn’t wait. So I continued to spray and spray for about thirty minutes until the bike was glowing a glossy maroon. I finished right in time too since the second I sat my paint dispenser down, my phone began to vibrate. I pulled it out of my pocket and placed it on my ear. 

“So what happened?” I asked, pulling my goggles and mask off. The smell of paint filled the shop, so I walked outside and sat down on the ground. 

“Mayans,” Jax replied through the phone. “Boot prints everywhere.” I shook my head with sudden anger. 

“Are you kidding?” I asked. I lie my head on the wall of the shop and groan. “Were all the guns burnt?”

Jax laughed. “Well yeah. All except the Niners’ M-4s and some glocks.” 

“Oh of course,” I said, sarcastically.

“Niners already paid for the guns too. Puts us in a bigger shit hole,” he replied. I could hear Tig and Bobby talking in the background.

“I’d say so,” I said with a sigh. “We have to get our guns back.”

“Clay’s already ahead of you there. We got a table meet up at noon once Clay gets back from a Niners meeting,” Jax told me. The voices in the background were replaced with the sound of engines. 

“Are you coming back to the shop?” I asked. I wished that he would. He was much better company than Lowell on most occasions. I don’t know. We just flowed better. I loved Jax more than anything, and I felt like I could be myself around Jax. I mean we grew up together, we were best friends. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I thought I’d come back for a little bit then go over to storage. I thought maybe you wanted to go. I think Ma said there was some of your dad’s things in there,” he told me. 

“Sure. I’ll go with you,” I told him. “I gotta wait for the paint to dry before I can do anything else on the bike anyways.” I raised my head and sat up straight, crossing my legs. I could feel the sun burning my skin as I sat on the asphalt. It was strangely pleasant to be in the sun today. Even though we were going through shit with the Mayans, it felt like a good day. 

“Well I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes,” he said. I nodded even though he couldn’t see me and then laughed silently at myself for it.

“Okay. Be careful,” I said with laughter still in my voice. The line went flat, and I shut my phone. 

It was longer than fifteen before Jax arrived back at the shop. I was sitting inside trying to make conversation with Lowell when he pulled in. Chibs and the prospect showed up at about the same time with a car that had a deer stuck in the windshield. It looked bad, but it was also pretty cool too. I was interested in hearing the story behind how the deer got that far into the car, and I wanted to know just how they planned on getting it out. 

Jax, Chibs, and the prospect was standing around the car when I showed up. “Well damn,” I said, taking a closer look. 

“How the hell do you want me to get it out of there?” the prospect asked, squinting from the sun. Jax smiled over to me and Chibs before jumping over the trailer hitch and opening a side compartment of the truck. He pulled a chainsaw out, and I have never seen someone’s eyes get as big as the prospect’s. Oh my gosh. It cracked me up. He looked like a deer in headlights.

“C-come on, man,” he said, looking at Jax and then turning as he thought about it. That just made it even funnier. 

“Just pretend it’s carve your own steak night at Sizzlers,” Jax said with a quick smile directed toward me. I sent him back a smile as the memories started filling my head. Sizzlers was one of our favorite places to go before Opie got put in jail, and the day he got out we took him there for his first real world meal. Gosh, there were so many memories at that place. We had went there for prom and before Opie’s wedding to Donna. 

“I-I don’t eat meat, man,” Prospect said, looking around at the three of us. My smile dropped and my eyebrows raised. 

“Well then you’ll just have to figure it out,” Jax replied, handing over the chainsaw. 

“Here, I’ll help you get it started,” I told the prospect. He sent a thankful, nervous smile, and I nodded. He handed me the chainsaw, and I cranked it up while Jax filled Chibs in on the Mayan ordeal. They began to walk away as I steadied my foot on the car and leaned over, cutting. It was actually pretty gross, to be honest. Blood filled the air, the smell infiltrating my nose and causing my to gag. “Okay, hell no. Here you go,” I said, turning the chainsaw off and handing it to him. “You’re on your own,” I coughed. “That’s disgusting.” 

“You good?” Jax called over to me. Chibs was standing beside him laughing as I doubled over and tried not to throw up. As I was bent over, I shot a bird at the men.

“Maybe later,” Jax said, chuckling as he turned back to Chibs. They talked for a little longer and then Jax got a phone call. I listened closely, hoping that it would be from Clay, telling us that Leroy had given us some time to get the guns out, but it turned out to be Gemma, Jax’s mom. 

“Hey, Ma.” He answered the phone. “Not yet. Me and Harley are going over there in a minute. Yeah, anything will help.” He turned around and handed his cigarette to Chibs and then started walking back over to me. “Oh you know it.” He stopped and looked at the prospect, who was trying his best not to throw up. “The new kid doesn’t eat meat.” He paused, listening. “Hey, have you heard from my crazy ex-wife? Yeah, well she is suppose to be sending me the doctor bills, and I haven’t seen one in weeks.” He looked up with a smirk then back to the ground. “Thanks, Grandma.” It was like a blow to the stomach every time I thought about it. Thinking about him and Wendy made my heart want to explode and my stomach want to empty. It was a bad relationship made out of stupid decisions, but the feeling I get knowing that he had been with my best friend, that he had a child with my best friend made me want to break down and cry. I had loved him all these years, and I had been there for him when no one else had. And he still chose my best friends, Wendy and even Tara before that. Whatever, I didn’t care. At least that’s what I tried to convince myself every time I thought about it.

Jax hung up the phone and walked over to where I was, leaning on the truck. “You ready?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” I said, still feeling a little down. “Let’s go.”

The storage sheds were just a little down the road from the shops. We brought the truck which slowed us down a little, but you can’t carry a lot when you’re on a bike. We came looking for baby items, something that would cost us from having to go buy new things for Abel, Jax’s kid. Even though we were here for that, there was too many items not to get. There were all sorts of boxes filled with things collected from the club over the years. It was quite interesting. Pictures filled an entire box, and Jax even found the story of SAMCRO that his dad wrote. I could tell when he opened the manila folder that it hit him hard. His dad had died in 1993, and coincidently, the journal was from the same year. The air felt tense and sad as he looked over it, wiping the dust off with the palm of his hand. 

“Here,” I said, holding out one of the BB guns that I found and trying to lighten the tension. I held the other one in my hand. “You can shoot me if I can shoot you,” I told him. He smiled.

“Hell no,” he said. “I ain’t letting you shoot me.” 

“Fine then,” I remarked. “Let’s see who can get closest to the O in the stop sign.” 

“Okay, but what do I get if I win?” he asked. I thought for a second and then found what he would love to have. 

“I’ll let you know what’s going on with me and David,” I offered. 

“Good, I needed to know more about what goes on in your sex life,” he said, sarcastically.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to know,” I smirked. “And if I win?” Jax’s lips set into a crooked smile.

“You get to have sex with me,” he said. My eyes went huge, and my eyebrows probably went so high they were in my hairline. 

“You wish,” I tried to say smoothly. “Try again.” 

Jax looked back down at the box filled with annuals and pictures, thinking. “Fine. I’ll owe you a favor. Anything you need, ever.” 

“Deal,” I said, holding my hand out. 

“Ready to go down, Darling?” he asked. I smirked and shook my head. 

“You should be asking yourself that question,” I said. “Go on, Mr. Big Shot. Shoot.”

“Hold your horses,” he said, walking up to the edge of the storage shed. Quickly, he aimed and fired. That was always Jax’s strategy. Aim quick, shoot quick. But just like his strategy always did, he failed. The BB hit the edge of the sign, barely making a mark on the red paint. I laughed silently and moved around him, taking the spot where he was.

“Let’s see if you can do any better,” he said from behind me. 

“Let’s see,” I replied, steadying the gun and slowly squeezing the trigger. The BB flew from the barrel, and it seemed to move in slow motion from the tip of the gun all the way to the middle of the P on the stop sign. I couldn’t help but jump around and rub it in Jax’s face. “It looks like someone owes me a favor, any favor.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said with a smile. “Shut up and help me put this stuff in the truck.” We started packing the boxes back up and in minutes, they were all neatly placed in the back of the truck. 

In a matter of thirty minutes, we were back at the clubhouse. Everything was put up, and we had set up camp in his room, looking through some of the things we found. I lie back on his bed and turned on my side. There was so many pictures on this bed, so many moments captured in time. It was amazing to look down on Jax’s comforter and see our dads standing there in the middle of the Vietnam war and the first nine sitting on their bikes in front of the shop. There were pictures of JT and Gemma getting married and riding off on his Harley and a few of my parents when they were still together, still in love. I picked up a stack from one of the boxes on the floor and started going through them. These were pictures of us kids back in the day. One of Opie and me riding our big wheels down the driveway, heading straight for Jax and wearing huge smiles. 

“Jax, look,” I said, holding up the picture. Jax looked up from a stack of paper that he was reading from and smiled. 

“Our first bikes,” he said with a chuckle. “God, when was that?” I turned the picture over and tried to read the scribble.

“Our babies, 1983,” I read aloud. “What were we? Like 5?” I asked.

“I’d say so,” he laughed and leaned back to look at the pictures in my hand. I placed the bike picture at the back of the stack and went on. The next one was of me in my mom’s high heels with her lipstick smeared on my face. Her large pearls hung from my neck and seemed to pull me down with their weight. In the background, I could see Opie and Jax standing behind me. 

Jax couldn’t help but crack up at the sight of the picture. He looked up at me and then back down to the picture. “Never learnt how to do make up, huh?” I scoffed and pushed him, playfully. He chuckled and sat up. “I remember that day. I remember thinking you looked cute even though you had that stuff smeared all over ya.”

“You are such a bull shitter.” I pushed him again and sat up, crossing my legs criss cross. It went silent, and then he started to crack up as he picked up the stack of paper. 

“Yeah, you’re right. That was the day that I realized you were crazy.” He pushed his blonde hair back behind his ear and looked back at me.

“How rude,” I replied, standing up. I put the picture in the back and went to lay the stack down on the bed, but a sudden knock at the door sent the pictures flying in all directions, piling on the floor. 

“Ey, Jax. We’re at deh table,” Chibs called from the other side of the door. I bent down and started to pick up the pictures from his floor. Jax waved his hand, telling me to leave them and go on out to the table. I continued to pick them up anyways and sat them on his bed.

“I clean up my messes,” I laughed and walked to the door, casually slipping out of his room. I continued to walk down the hallway that connected the club’s apartments, past the old bike, and turned back towards the entrance. I made my way past the bar and then on to the large, wooden table. That’s where we had our official meetings and our table meet ups. 

Clay was at the head of the carved table since he was president. Then Jax came and sat straight to Clay’s left next to Bobby, Juice, and Happy. Tig and Chibs sat to the right of Clay, and I took my spot right between the two. This was our table meet up spots that were more common than actual official meetings.

“Okay, since everyone is here now, let’s talk about this Mayan shit,” Clay said, leaning back in his chair. “Everybody knows those bastards took our M-4s and our glocks. Now the Niners are expecting a huge heroin shipment. They need protection.” 

I nodded and looked around the table. Bobby was the only one looking up. “And what if the Mayans go and crash that dope party with Leroy’s M-4s?”

“We lose the Niners and all that black business,” Jax said.

Clay looked up with instant anger and pointed a finger. “That ain’t gonna happen.” Clay slapped his hand down on the table. I jumped back. “Those assholes, they come into our territory, they steal our guns, no. I want those guns back.” 

I watched Jax sigh. He sat there for a second thinking. “Chibs and I will get all the recent Mayan intel we can. Juice, I need you to hack into the crime databases. Get what you can. Address, phone numbers, anything that can tell us where they are.”

I sat back and waited patiently to be told what to do. My job changed depending on who or what we were dealing with. 

“Bobby, when we get those guns back, I want every fat man and little boy within an inch of that place,” Clay said, and Bobby nodded in agreement. But that wasn’t right. It wouldn’t work.

“He can’t,” I said, leaning back in my seat, placing my arm on the table, and looking to Clay.

“No, Harley,” Bobby said from across the table. 

“What?” Clay looked around, but the table fell silent. We all knew what Bobby had to do. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on that is too important for Bobby to do this,” Clay said, turning to me. I looked to Bobby about to speak when Jax started before me. 

“Bobby’s got Tahoe this weekend.” He cleared the air and broke the tension. Once a month, Bobby went down to Tahoe dressed as Elvis. He sang at one of those wants to be nice but is tacky bars. As bad as it seemed, Bobby loved to go down there, and he made enough money to get him through his monthly shit storms from his two ex wives. It was vital for him to go down there if he didn’t want to go into debt.

“I’m canceling that shit,” he said, giving me a dirty look for spilling the beans. Clay had forgotten, and I knew that if someone didn’t say anything Bobby would just cancel without a word. He needed this, he needed to get away for a weekend sometimes.

“You’re going, Bobby,” I said. “You got bills.”

“Yeah, you got to. Can’t deprive those people of deh king,” Chibs joked.

“I got the right to decide for myself,” Bobby argued, pushing his long, curly hair back.

“No, Harley’s right,” Clay said, rubbing his hands together. “Got two ex wives who already blew the casino checks. We don’t need P.I.s and lawyers on our asses on top of this Mayan shit.”

“Well tell me this. If I ain’t there to handle the pyro, who is?” Bobby asked, cocking his head. Clay sent a look over to me like I had expected. I could do this. Blowing shit up was one of my strong suits. 

“You know, no one blows shit up like the Harls,” Tig said. My mouth went up into a small smirk. “And Opie.” I stopped. No. He was not getting involved in this. Not now. Not after all the shit that he went through. Donna was still giving him shit about everything that happened. I wasn’t going to let my brother get involved in this, not again.

“I can do this alone,” I said, sternly. “I don’t need Opie’s help, Clay.” I shifted my eyes to Jax with pleading eyes. They begged him to say something, to make sure my brother was not brought into this. Prison took my brother for five years, and I just got him back. I couldn’t lose him, not again. 

Jax caught my glance. He saw my pleading look. “Opie is leaning straight these days,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Opie is going to lean whatever way we need him to,” Clay replied, standing up and inferring that the meetup was finished. He pointed to Jax and me. “I want you two to get him on board.” Jax looked away from me and kept eye contact with Clay as he spoke, but his eyes drifted as Clay left the table. It was obviously a task neither of us wanted to do. Opie was my brother and Jax’s best friend. 

I stood up from the table and looked back down to Jax. Everyone else had left the table and were over at the bar, getting a drink. Jax was looking towards the wall, avoiding my eyes. I leaned over the table, placing my hands on the carved Grim Reaper. “Jax, I swear to you right now that if you get my brother involved in this I will key the fuck out of your bike.”

“Harley,” he said. “I ain’t got a choice.” 

“No, Opie just got out of prison. I lost my brother for five fucking years, Jax. He’s living right right now. He’s earning straight. Don’t you go and ruin that for him, for my family. Convince Clay that I can handle this on my own because I can. We don’t need my brother to blow up Mayans.” 

Jax looked back down at the table. He was going to say something, but my prepaid phone started buzzing in my pocket. I looked over to Clay and the boys then back at Jax, reaching into my pocket. I pulled out the phone and read the number, Gemma. I better answer. Flipping the flip phone up, I answered the phone.

“Hey,” I said. I could hear her breathing through the phone.

“Harley, where’s Jax?” she asked. I looked down at her son, who was staring at me with a confused expression.

“He’s right here, why?” I asked. I shifted my weight over to my left leg and propped my free hand on my hip, waiting.

“The baby. I found the crack whore lying on the floor of their house. She was bleeding. It was everywhere. Bitch was strung out,” she said, calmly. 

“Damnit,” I said. “Okay. How bad?” I rubbed my face. I could only imagine Wendy laying there on the floor. 

“They are taking her to the hospital.”

“Shit, okay. We are on our way now.” I said, stressfully running my hand through my hair. Dammit, Wendy. “We’re on our way.” I flipped the phone closed and pushed it into my pocket.

“What’s going on?” Jax asked, standing up.  
“ We’re going to the hospital,” I said, walking away from him.


End file.
